His attentions were so different from what she had come to expect, from what she knew. She felt as if she were stretched full of him, and yet simultaneously as if she did not have nearly enough. There was no pain, no discomfort, no pinching. Instead, her body felt as if it were made for his. He thrust in and out gently, slowly at first, and then with increasing vigor as his tongue lashed her nipples.
When his thumb circled over her pearl as his other finger sank deep, the combination proved too much. He sucked hard on the peak of her breast, thrusting inside her as his thumb stroked and strummed and brought her to release. The sheer pleasure of it nearly tore her apart. She felt as if she were wound tightly and then exploded into the ether, such delicious abandon and pleasure swamping her body and mind that she was helpless to do anything but ride his hand, hips tipping greedily upward for more, and hold his handsome face to her breasts so that he would continue this sweet torture.
Her heart was pounding so hard and so fast as the desire licked through her that she feared it would burst. But as the waves of her crisis ebbed, the pounding continued.
And that was when she realized it was not her heart at all.
Rather, it was someone rapping on the door.